


Heat Woes

by Bubonicc



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Blowjobs, Creampies, Fingering, Heat Cycles, M/M, Sticky Sex, hangs jobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-27 23:01:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6303550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bubonicc/pseuds/Bubonicc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ratchet is sick? Nonsense!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heat Woes

**Author's Note:**

> Couldn't think of a title.

“He isn’t here today.” First Aid didn’t look up as the med-bay doors slid open. He didn’t have to even glance back to see who it was to know that Drift had waltzed in. He had this funny little habit of coming around at the same time nearly every day.

            “What do you mean he isn’t here? We were supposed to have a drink at Swerves. He promised.” Drift’s finials did that thing where they sagged only for a second before flicking back upwards to listen to the smaller medic.

            “I mean, Ratchet isn’t in today. I’m taking his shift, he’s sick-” Startled a bit at the loud, snorting laugh Drift made, First Aid shook his head and went right back to work.

            “That’s rich Aid, Ratchet doesn’t get sick. I have known Ratchet for… a lifetime and he has never gotten sick. Is he just bailing on me? Seriously, is he in his office?” Not waiting for First Aid to respond, Drift marched himself to the back of the med-bay and down a narrow hall to where Ratchets office was. “Ratchet!” Drift snapped, sliding the rest of the way until he grabbed the door and leaned in. “Stop working and come get a drink with-” He paused, Ratchets chair empty, in fact the whole room empty.

            “I told you, he’s not here, he’s sick.” Coming up behind the swordsman, First Aid crossed his arms impatiently. “Now if you don’t mind, I have things to do.” He side stepped, silently asking Drift to go.

            It didn’t make sense though, Ratchet really _never_ got sick. If anything he was always lecturing everybody else about getting sick all the time and to take better care of themselves.

            “Well… if Ratchet really is sick then maybe I should stop by to see how he is doing. Maybe something to eat even, he would like that.” Drift noticed First Aid jump.

            “No, no wait-! Ratchet said he wants to be left alone! He doesn’t want visitors.”

            “Oh come on, when does Ratchet ever want visitors.” Turning to leave, Drift waved to First Aid who now seemed to be panicking a bit. He tried to follow Drift to snag his arm but Drift was too fast and was already out the door.

            “Drift! I’m serious!” The little medic called out as he watched Drift walk away. “Ratchet’s going to kill me.”

 

* * *

 

 

The key panel close to Ratchets door was red across the little screen and Drift read the clear _do not disturb_ message flashing on it. Did that keep him from knocking on the door and disturbing? No.

            “Ratchet?” Drift knocked lightly, pausing and listening for those familiar heavy footed steps. A few seconds went by and really all he could hear were a few mumbled noises that he couldn’t really figure out. “Ratchet? It’s me… I brought some energon. Aid said you were sick, or are you just playing hooky from our drink date?” He waited and still no response. Normally, anybody would have walked away and let a probably sleeping Ratchet be, but Drift knew Ratchets door code, and he typed it in.

            As the door slid open, an unbelievably sweet scent filled his nostrils and he hummed. Something in his tank twisted and he felt an odd pang of arousal, what was weird about it was it seemed familiar.

            As Drift was about to round the corner that led to Ratchets hab, he ran into something hard and hot.

            “Ratchet?!” Nearly dropping the energon cube, Drift caught it and looked over the CMO. “Primus, you scared me.”

            “What are you doing in here? Didn’t you see the door?”

            “First Aid said you were sick, so I thought I would come by and give you some energon. Make sure you’re okay, you know?” He looked Ratchet over and noticed the medics cheeks were a light hint of pink and his face was damp with coolant. His breathing was hard and Drift could even hear Ratchet’s internal fans working overtime to cool him off. He slouched as if his frame ached and it all looked like Ratchet wasn’t feeling well, except something caught Drift’s optics. Ratchet stood sort of bowl legged, as if his panel was hurting him, and now that he was staring, he could tell it seemed to bulge out more than usual. What really gave it away was the little beat of lubricant seeping from one of the seams.

            “No way-” Moving close to Ratchet, Drift pushed his head between Ratchets and his shoulder. “ _No way._ ” He said again, taking a deep breath and finding the source of that fantastic smell. He had been around long enough to recognize the scent of a heat cycle. “You’re on a cycle, aren’t you” Drift smirked, feeling Ratchet’s frame react to him being so close. The static charge that had been built over Ratchet’s frame prickled at Drift’s own, making him purr in delight.

            Letting out a shaky breath, Ratchet allowed Drift to cuddled his face against his neck, he wasn’t really sure he could pull away, having Drift this close was making his frame itch with need. He swallowed hard, Drift’s soft lips against his neck cable, primus it felt so good. His frame was naturally sensitive, but now ramped up on a cycle, the smallest of touches were driving him insane.

            “I told First Aid I didn’t want to be disturbed.”

            “Do you want me to leave?” Drift whispered into the side of Ratchet’s head, feeling him shudder and sag a bit. His frame creaked as he rocked in place, his panel warping outwards as his swollen spike pressed uncomfortably against the array.        

            As Drift pulled away and made it seem like he was going to leave, Ratchet snagged his wrist, grip perhaps a little too desperate for his liking. He pulled Drift back against his frame and crushed their lips together.

            Ratchet’s kisses were hungry and rough, nipping at Drift’s bottom lip and tugging a bit to get him to tease back. Of course Drift complied and crushed their lips together with just as much force, chuckling into Ratchet’s mouth as their glossas shot out.

            Drift kissed harder, pushing for dominance and resting his hands on Ratchet’s hips. he leaned his weight against him, forcing Ratchet to step back with the added weight over and over until his aft bumped the edge of the berth.

            "Lie back." Drift broke the kiss, breathing hard as he was plenty worked up now. His vents flared, huffing out hot gust after hot gust.  The tips of his finials burned red hot along with his cheeks, giving away his arousal which only escalated when Ratchet laid back and spread his legs for Drift.

            Ratchet groaned, harshly rubbing his hand over his bulging panel.  It hurt, terribly, but he waited, soaking in Drift’s face as he watched him grope himself. He could see Drift’s vents flare again, his finials standing at attention as he finally climbed over the medic.

            Leaving a random line of kisses up the medics frame, Drift paused a moment to kiss around Ratchet's belt loop. He didn't linger too long, as Ratchet squirmed every now and then as his panel was getting unbearable and the need to interface was fogging his processor.

            Ratchet’s servos pressed against his panels seam, smearing the lubricant that had leaked out. His panting increased, husky and needy as he felt Drift’s hips grind down against it. His panel was just as hot, and he could feel the charge from his spike even behind the modesty plate.

            Kissing up Ratchet's chest, Drift buried his face into the medic's neck one more time and took in that sweet smell.

            "Mhm~!" His engines revved, Primus Ratchet smelt so good,  it made his groin ache terribly for the Medics heat.

            Below, Ratchet's free hand was rubbing Drift’s chest plate up and down hesitating sometimes as he lost his focus every time Drift ground down against him, pushing his already cramped spike back into its housing to make him whine.

            "Drift." Ratchet choked out, pressing his damp cheek against the side of Drift’s head. He couldn't hold his panel back, and a part of him didn't care if Drift wanted him to wait or not, it was coming out.

            A loud click and Ratchet's spike jutted out of his panel so fast it jabbed Drift’s stomach and made him giggle. The tip was hot and wet, leaving a long smear if lubricant against Drift’s abdominal plating.

            Ratchet's scent had been strong before, but now that his valve was out in the open that sweet and sort of musty smell increased. Drifts frame reacted almost instantly as it wafted through his vents. His optics rotated and the primal need to respond to Ratchet's frames call engaged his own panel.

            "Huh!~" Ratchet felt Drift’s spike slide against his valve, pressing against it and sitting on the hot folds. The sensation was enough to make Ratchet’s frame lurch, and now both of his hands were clutching the lip of Drift’s chestplate. Normally it would have felt good, but the nodes being as sensitive as they were amplified the sensation tenfold. His valve clenched, spitting out built up lubricant to trickle down between his legs and onto the soft silky sheets of the berth.

            Moving his hips forwards a bit, Drift slid the underside of his spike over Ratchet’s outer node, and already that was enough.

            "Primus!" Ratchet snapped out, pulling Drift down against him as he overloaded.  His frame stiffened and jerked at random. Hissing through clenched denta, he felt his valve clenching rapidly on nothing and his node throbbing harder than it ever had. He slammed one heel down on the berth, crying out until the overload subsided and he laid still, panting hard into Drifts shoulder.

            "Heh." Kissing Ratchet’s hot cheeks, he gave him this little affectionate nuzzle before starting to move down his frame. Again, he kissed here and there, mouthing over seams and sticking his glossa in them just to listen to Ratchet’s breathing stutter.

            Getting comfy between those thick thighs, Drift licked his lips when he locked optics with that beautifully engorged valve. He had never seen anything to swollen in his life, Both valve lips stuck outwards, even his outer node which was twice its usual size was jutting forwards begging for attention.

            Lubricant bubbled at the bottom of the valve, drooling outwards and soaking both of Ratchet's thighs. It had been a lot more lubricant than he had seen before, maybe it was a medic frame type thing but Ratchet's valve looked more like a slip and slide than anything else.

            Reaching forwards, Drift used two servos to part the lips, finding it a little difficult as they were a bit stiff from being so inflamed. More lubricant sputtered out, and Drift’s optics seemed to light up with mirth.

            "The spirits are smiling down on me today." He put his head back and closed his eyes, just basking in the presence of Ratchet’s panel.  He was suddenly bumped by Ratchet's knees and looked down to see the medic scowling at him.

            "Cut that spiritual crap and start touching, sucking, _anything_!" He jerked his hips at Drift, trying to get his point across that he wasn't going to be patient for much longer. His valve and spike hurt and he wanted relief as soon as possible.  

            "Alright, alright-" Rubbing around Ratchet's valve, Drift sort of squeezed it between his hands, really liking to play with the firm but still very soft lips. The added bonus squishing around was that he made Ratchet slouch and fall back, unable to keep himself upright as every touch made him weak.

            Licking his lips again, Drift dug right in. He kept his hands by the sides of his face, holding Ratchet's hips down as they lurched upwards at the contact.

            "Fffnnng!~" Ratchet pushed back against all the pillows he had been lying against. Gasp after gasp, Ratchet kept jerking his hips every time he felt Drift’s glossa slide between his hot folds. He was anything but silent, making loud slurping and smacking sounds as he licked and nipped. His would bite, light, at Ratchet's valve lips and give them a bit of a tug just to elicit those mewls out of the medics mouth. "Hah!" Hips bucking, Drift put more pressure down, keeping Ratchet restrained the best he could.

            Dragging his glossa up and down through Ratchet's valve, Drift slipped it downwards a little more to jab it inside of Ratchet's heat. He smirked into the folds, loving how Ratchet's valve clenched and tried to keep him inside and wiggled as he withdrew.  

            Thumb rubbing delicate circles against Ratchet’s nub, Ratchet's vents roared and he arched, pushing himself harder against Drift’s face.

            "M-More!" He snapped, putting his head back into the pillows when he felt Drift's denta graze the folds again. His calipers reacted with a large clench, and he whined through clenched denta. "Drift! More!" Optics glossed over with lust, he was getting frustrated it wasn't enough to satisfy the hunger in his tank. No matter how hard he pushed against Drift’s face, it just wasn't doing it for him. Sure his valve was oozing more and more lubricant, and Drift was swallowing it down in thick gulps, but his glossa just wasn't what his valve wanted. He needed something thicker, something that could split him open, and he was going to get it.

            Sliding himself up a bit, Drift licked his slightly pink lips and wiped his chin as he wiggled between Ratchet's thighs to his spike which had been standing at attention the entire time. The plating was warped outward, just like his spike it was inflamed and needed some sort of attention or it would ache terribly.

            All the while Drift had been stuffing himself, Ratchet's spike would twitch and spurt little globs of lubricant to stream down the sides of the shaft and father on his abdomen. The large button like node under the spike head usually glowed red, though now it was nearly white.

            Kissing the top of Ratchet's spike, Drift took the shaft by the base and started to squeeze. He twisted his hand while his lips kept kissed all around the head, giving it little licks to take in the lubricant it was leaking before finally he took the head into his mouth. He didn't start slow, knowing Ratchet really wasn't going to be in the mood for that kind of thing, so he stuffed him into his mouth all the way to the hilt.

            Above, his finials picked up ratchet gasping and his hips lurching up again into Drifts mouth, hitting the back of his intake and really making him gag. No matter, he slid right back up and started bobbing his head quickly.

            Free hand, Drift cupped Ratchet's valve and squeezed. Slipping two servos between the soaked folds, he drove them right in and started to vigorously finger.

            "Drift!" Ratchet howled, twisting on the berth and pulling at the covers for purchase. He kicked out his legs, feeling Drift's servos scissor apart and push his swollen walls all about. Already sensitive nodes lit up and shocked Ratchet with thick throws of pleasure that had him open mouth gasping.

            Tank rolling, heat spread down Ratchet's groin right to the tips of his peds. He curled them, dragging his heels along the berth as he tried so hard to keep the overload at bay. It was useless, there was holding nothing back on a heat cycle and when he felt the knot coming undone he grabbed Drift’s finials and pushed his head down all the way on his spike.

            Both of them scrunched their faces, Ratchet because he was overloading, and Drift because he was trying to swallow all the transfluid Ratchet was dumping down his intake.

            Drift’s hand never stopped working, even as Ratchet's valve bit down on him and made it difficult to thrust upwards. He pushed, jabbing clusters of nodes to try and draw out as much pleasure for his medic as possible.

            Hands sliding from Drift’s finials, Ratchet fell back and heaved his face beat red and his legs sagging to the sides. He was tired, but his tank fluttered and rolled, still terribly needy.

            Slowly, Drift slid his mouth up Ratchet's spike and swallowed what transfluid was left before wiping his mouth once more.

            "I like this look." Resting his chin on Ratchet's lower abdomen, Drift pressed Ratchet spike against his cheek and smiled. "The hot and horny look suits you well." Ratchet could feel Drift’s frame purring against him. He knew how he looked, his seams steaming a bit as his core temperature was reaching critical points. If this didn't end soon he would overheat and pass out or they would have to stop and take a break for him to cool down and he didn't want to pause, he was so worked up and his valve still rippled in aftershock from his last overload, it was time for the final bit.

            "Are you going to just gawk at me for the rest of the afternoon or are you going to stick your spike someplace we both know we want it and do the job right?" Ratchet watched Drift sit up and smirk at im, rolling his neck and grabbing the medic's hips.

            "Roll over," Drift pulled on Ratchet, helping him sit up, "On your hands and knees." He was gentle, hearing Ratchet's frame groan in protest from having to get up. Once in position, he angled his hips upwards to display his valve. His front half lowered, balancing himself on his forearms and just keeping his aft in the air. He grabbed a pillow and stuffed it under his chest, hugging it a bit as he felt Drift's hands on his aft and then the sudden feeling of him digging his thumbs into his valve and yanking it open.

            There was the small noise made by Drift, probably approval from how nice the view was and how wet and ready Ratchet still was.

            "Don't have all day." Putting his face into his pillow, Ratchet felt his valve pulsing, being this close to Drift’s panel was driving him crazy. Valve clenching on Drift’s thumbs, Ratchet groaned into the pillow and growled. "Come o-" He paused, feeling Drift nose his spike head against his valve and apply just enough pressure to tease at the valve ring.

            Lying over Ratchet's back, Drift wrapped his arms around the medic's chest the best he could and kissed the side of his head.

            "Ratchet, Drift waited for his medic to look at him before sliding his spike right in to the hilt. He felt Ratchet surge under him, and he soaked in the look the medic gave him as he impaled him.

            "Ahg!" Ratchet squeezed his pillow, leaning forwards away from the intense stimulation only for Drift's hips to follow. Bucking freely, Drift hugged Ratchet nice and tight to keep himself secure whenever Ratchet's frame would jerk or buck. "Drift!" Baring his denta, Ratchet screamed, overloading on the still pumping spike.

            Above, Drift grunted and kept pounding, panting into the back of Ratchet's neck as he worked. He felt the inner walls of Ratchet's valve part for him, letting him bury himself deeper until he stuck the back of Ratchet's valve and make him squeal like he had never heard him do so before. He wanted to hear it again, so he thrust, hard and fast, making Ratchet's cries come one after another.

            Drift reached under Ratchet's belly, take ahold of his spike and stroking it in tune with his thrusts the best he could. He squeezed, perhaps a little too tight as he couldn't really focus on too much at once but Ratchet didn't seem to care. It felt good, too good and he was losing himself again in a thick haze of bliss.

            Another overload and Ratchet was drooling all over his pillow, arching back into Drifts thrust and trembling so hard his plating rattled in some areas. Transfluid covered Drift's hand, but he kept pumping Ratchet's spike and rubbing the head until finally he felt the familiar hot knot in his own tank.

            Sitting up, Drift leaned back and took ahold of Ratchet's hips. Pushing the medic forwards, he yanked him back against his spike, hilting each time and ramming the back of his valve each time.

            Closing his eyes, Drift focused, his frame slowly slouching as the knot in his tank started to tighten and finally, unraveled.

            "A-Ah!" Thrusts awkward as Drift was at the mercy of his stiffening frame, he arched over Ratchet. Mouth open, he gasped and scrunched his face up, finials going down as he pumped his medic full.

            One more overload and Ratchet pushed himself all the way back against Drift, making sure his spike dumped as much transfluid into the back of his valve as possible. It was warm and filling, making his patting ripple and shiver. Oh Primus, how that felt good, it always felt good. There was no better feeling then being pumped full on a heat cycle.

            Drift rocked slowly, keeping himself seating for a few more seconds before extracting himself and sitting back on his haunches. Optics dim, he watched Ratchet's valve still clenching and rippling, some of the transfluid he had pumped into him seeping out and down the creamy thighs.

            Drift whined a bit when Ratchet let himself fall on his side to rest, he was enjoying watching his valve. No matter, Ratchet needed care now.

            Getting up, Drift stuffed his equipment away and crawled over Ratchet to kiss him all over. He cuddled him and pressed his nose into his cheek, and Ratchet pressed his head into him, accepting the affection.

            "I brought some energon." Drift was whispering now, leaning to the side to grab the cube of energon he had brought earlier. "Here, drink it. You need it." He had to help Ratchet sit up, as his frame was too tired to do much on his own.

            Drift fluffed the pillows behind Ratchet to make him more comfortable, he was just sweet like that before hanging him the energon. He helped him hold it, as his hands were shaking and weak. He sucked it down and let Drift take the empty glass away and sank down into the pillows, exhausted.

            Hunkering down with him, Drift cuddled next to him, leaving a bit of a space between them so Ratchet's vents had plenty of room to cycle in cool air and vent out the hot air.

            "Feeling better?"

            "Getting there." Reaching over, Ratchet set his hand on Drift's head and gave it a pat before touching one of his finials and rubbing it.


End file.
